


Observations and Conclusions

by vegalocity



Category: LEGO Monkie Kid
Genre: Ambiguous by design, Amnesia, I'll let you decide, M/M, Manipulation or Honest Concern, Unreliable Narrator, but it's literally nothing it is ONE line, the QUICKEST mention of NSFW at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28944201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vegalocity/pseuds/vegalocity
Summary: He'd woken up surrounded by rocks and in the dark, pressure everywhere and no idea where he was. Panic and confusion were his first memories flailing about in the rubble. And then a firm hand pulled him out. And he knew he could trust this boy, whoever he was.
Relationships: Qi Xiaotian | MK/Red Son
Comments: 7
Kudos: 46





	Observations and Conclusions

**Author's Note:**

> So this is inspired by a short thing [ Purble-Turble ](https://purble-turble.tumblr.com/tagged/amnesia-red-son)speculated about that I looked at and was like 'I'd write that' so here we are

Just because he wasn't working with all the information didn't mean that he wasn't paying attention. Red had a general idea of what was going on, and he could infer the rest on his own.

One of the things he knew was that he was a fire demon, but he was a kind fire demon. He was born to a pair of cruel demons but had recently renounced their ways and joined a motley crew of heroes. He was the most recent addition to this group, and so these people weren't as familiar with him than they were with each other. And that was fine, just because he was the new guy didn't mean they didn't care about him, because his friends did care quite a bit about him. 

Every day someone would ask him if he'd remembered anything, and sigh when he said he hadn't. Disappointment no doubt, sure he wasn't the best at reading people apparently—as he'd had no idea that that customer had been flirting with him until she'd slipped him her phone number—but if he was friends with someone whom had forgotten their friendship with him, he would be a little disappointed if they weren't getting their memories back any time soon either. 

He had a 'role' of sorts to play in their group both when they're heroes and when they're not. On a normal day he was positioned behind the counter and waiting the few tables the tiny restaurant had to earn his keep in the apartment above, muscle memory hadn't kicked in at all so his best guess was that he was new to the food industry as well. And as heroes he would work far from the front line, but still in the battle. Their sharpshooter, lingering in the background to keep an eye on their target and provide cover fire—quite literally—if need be. And when neither action was needed he'd learned he had quite the skill for technology and spent the rest of his free time either tuning up various odds and ends or tinkering. 

He already had several plans for upgrades to the rickshaw, the boat, and a few sets of armor for his friends, and considering none of these concepts seemed to surprise anyone, he'd first assumed that he'd thought them up before, and maybe if he went digging he'd find the old blueprints, but when that turned up empty he could only assume that if he wasn't always foisting tech onto his friends so all of his ideas weren't a surprise no matter what they were, then he just had a bad habit of not writing anything down. Something that he had to make sure to correct, because as it turned out his brain wasn't as much of an unshakable vault of ideas as he must have thought before.

It seemed he had a bit of a temper, but his friends didn't disparage him for it, or at least nobody seemed to take it too hard. In fact some of them seemed to enjoy it. 

Mei in particular seemed to relish in riling him up. They shared a workshop after all, and she'd often joke that they were basically tech rivals, so it was her prerogative to piss him off to make sure he was too flustered to finish his project before she finished hers. He knew that there were no hard feelings though, as she'd often peer at him out of the corner of her eye after he was done fuming, making sure he wasn't taking it too hard most likely. He didn't. Clearly this was just how their friendship worked and he liked having someone to bounce ideas off of who understood what he was getting at. 

In fact it seemed he was on intellectual even footing with Mr. Tang as well, though they had different subjects of interest. Tang being more of a historian and classics person, and the facts and opinions Red wasn't even aware he had until they were coming out of his mouth pointed him exclusively toward STEM with little more than passing knowledge in the subjects Tang could rattle off as though he'd written multiple dissertations on them—and for all he knew, he might have, college professors don't fuck around—but the two of them could find common ground easily. Tang had a particular interest in discussing psychology with him, most likely due to his memory loss, but he didn't actually speak much about head trauma and memory repression. He did at first, but he'd recently switched topics toward, of all things, the psychology of abuse. He didn't say anything specific about why the subject had captured his attention, but that combined with the fact that nobody ever said _anything_ specific about what they knew of his life before gave him a theory.

A large indicator of this theory was in relation to Sandy's behavior. He was a bit more on the edge of the group than he was inside it, a bit like Red himself. So he'd assumed the two of them must have been a bit of a 'odd ones out' sort of club, but Sandy had seemed just as surprised as Red when one of his cats had warmed up to him immediately, apparently Mo didn't warm up to many and Red could only think to joke that it must be that he runs hotter than a normal person, so it would be easy for cats to 'warm up' to him. But the unfamiliarity in handling the little fuzzball combined with Sandy's perplexed response made it seem as though he'd rarely spent much time on the boat with him. So he'd decided to fix that himself and stop by for tea when he could. It was maybe the third time he'd dropped by to spend some time with his large blue friend and pet Mo that Sandy had placed a hand on his shoulder, and told him he was a good guy. Not like a good guy as in a hero, but as in a kind person. He hadn't realized how much hearing that had meant to him until he was already walking off the dock and figured it probably wasn't normal to fight back tears at being told something so simple. His best guess was that he didn't hear things like that very often.

Pigsy was another data point toward his theory. He was a gruff person by nature, clearly, but he held real affection for the others. And though he was the most distant of the group at first, it didn't take long before Red found himself among those ranks. It made sense, like everything else did, and he even understood why it seemed aggravating for him to have to basically re-train Red so he could continue to work. In order to make up for his novice level skill he could only do his very best with what he was given, and apparently if the little old ladies who would call him a 'sweet young man' meant anything he was doing an alright job. And the restaurant itself was as spotless as he could possibly get it without closing down the front for a proper deep clean, and though he wasn't specifically trained in restaurant equipment (as he was mostly finding himself searching for things his memory-less yet knowledge stuffed brain could identify while elbow deep in machinery guts) he was able to fix and upgrade about half of the things in the kitchen area. And Pigsy warmed up to him considerably after he'd gotten the trick stovetop to stop tricking and work properly. He'd thumped his shoulder and called him a bright kid. And unlike with Sandy he hadn't been able to hold back his delight. It had come as such a surprise, to be praised for his talents. So he was likely right in that whatever his family life was before, he wasn't used to kind words. But Pigsy had noticed it too; he must have, because he started becoming quite a bit more sincere when Red would fix things around the restaurant for him. His best guess was that whatever his life was like before, he'd probably held it close to his chest. Maybe the others hadn't even known why he'd changed sides in the first place until now.

The most information he'd gleaned of himself however, he'd gotten from MK. Though he'd tried to play it cool when he'd first given him the basic rundown of his own life, Red had put together a fair amount through context. It made perfect sense why he wouldn't tell him of their relationship at first, he didn't want to make Red feel like he was pressuring him or possibly even manipulating him now that he couldn't remember their history himself, but it was obvious in everything around them. 

From moment one Red knew MK must be important to him. His first memory after losing his life before was being pulled from the rubble by someone he couldn't recognize; but his heart had leaped into his throat when he'd looked him over, asking if he was alright. He'd looked skittish, as though whatever danger they were in hadn't passed yet. And when he'd responded to the inquiry with one of his own, 'Who are you? Where are we?' the stranger had pulled himself together quickly.

“Wait what? You don't-....Later we're not safe here.” and it was true, the cave they were both in was clearly unstable, as another bolder fell away on their side, crumbling into a pile of rubble not dissimilar to the one he'd found himself in. Then the stranger had taken his hand in his own and quickly—yet gently—guided the both of them out of the cave and to safety. His heart had leaped into his throat, but the fear of being in a collapsing cave had little to do with it, his mind preoccupied with the steady strength of the stranger's hand in his own and his dark hair reflecting off of the dim light of the torches that lit the stone around them. He didn't know this person, but he knew, at his very core, that he could trust him.

Only when they were safe did he ask over the stranger's identity again, and he'd gotten a strange, almost pained look on his face, before introducing himself as 'MK' he'd hesitated for a moment before continuing 'The Monkie Kid, Successor to the Monkey King.' he'd cringed back, as if expecting his identity enough to inspire his ire.

And... he was pretty sure he knew who that was, the Monkey King that is, he didn't know just why he knew, but he had heard the name before. But he couldn't recall anything about a successor of his. So he greeted him pleasantly and realized only after he figured he should probably introduce himself in turn that he couldn't quite remember his own name.

He'd been embarrassed rather than horrified, that he had no base idea on his own identity. And MK had seemed stricken when he realized that he was in essence a blank slate before him. 

“You're... You're Red Son.” He'd started slowly, like he was waiting for a punchline. And Red Son (apparently) felt it was a little weird to have 'son' so prominently in his name without any memories of who he was even the son _of_. He figured until he remembered either of his parents, just 'Red' would do.

“Alright. What were we doing in there?” He looked back at the now collapsed cave behind them, a weird sort of guilt rolled in his gut he didn't know the source of.

“Uh...” MK was avoiding eye contact with him, rubbing at the back of his head and looking upset. “Well DBK- uh.. the Demon Bull King, and Princess Iron Fan—” He did feel something at either of those names, a spike of fear, the barest glimpse of terror, hurt, feeling like garbage because he would never be good enough, _he wasn't a traitor he would never betra_ —

“—were looking for some kinda magical artifact in the heart of that cave and it was one of those artifacts that might or might not actually be real, but if it was real it would cause a lot of trouble for them to get their hands on, so...” He paused glancing at Red again, this time his expression tight, like he was mentally apologizing for something. “So we decided to stop them from finding that out, you and me that is. We're friends.”

The barest sense of memory at the mention of the demon couple had already blurred as MK continued talking, he couldn't remember much of it after it passed beyond the initial fear, and from that it made sense, the familiarity MK had in regard to their opponents that night must imply that they'd fought before, perhaps numerous times, so of course he would be a little afraid of the people who had apparently caused them to come to the cave in the first place. 

“Was the artifact real?” came the next question. It apparently was very real, and most likely was the reason why that and a little head trauma had knocked the memories clean out of him. But thankfully it was only one use, as after it had been knocked into Red in the middle of the scuffle it had fallen apart.

They lingered at the mouth of the cave only for a few moments longer before MK decided it was time to head home. He answered Red's questions on the walk back into the city with a growing sort of upset that made him worried. He'd told him the basics of what he knew of his life. Being a demon not by consequence but by birth, and MK really tried to make sure Red knew he was a kind person. Going on and on about how of course way back when he would have just been going along with whatever his parents told him was normal, but he was a good person! They were friends for a reason! He told him about the others in their friend group, the kind of people he'd surrounded himself with after he'd apparently disowned his parents. When they reached the more dense area of the city, so full of neon and noise and interesting smells, MK took his hand in his own again. Likely in part to keep him from wandering off or getting distracted, but the fact that he'd decided to take him by the hand instead of grabbing his wrist or arm for a more firm grip had made the gears turn in his head.

Sure enough when they reached their destination, a noodle shop of all things, and MK had pulled out a set of keys to ascend to the small apartment atop the shop, it occurred to Red that they probably lived together. At least, if he had a friend who had lost his memories he thought his first instinct would be to bring them to their home instead of his own, so logic would then dictate that they shared the tiny flat. But then came the realization that this tiny place only had one bed, and no other bedding setups beyond a mound of pillows on the floor that seemed to be a sort of makeshift couch.

Oh- _Oooh_... Well that certainly made sense. All of the sad looks MK had been shooting at him, the reluctance to explain, how he'd been going on about how good of _friends_ they were. 

The little apartment was a bit of a mess, he wondered if he was normally okay with this, because right now it was kind of bothering him, maybe if he hadn't regained any memories of what he normally did with his time in the morning he'd clean up a bit. Ohhh but he'd need MK to sort through who owned what. Speaking of, he didn't see anything particularly pajama-like. He found a comfortable feeling T-shirt with a target on it, and a pair of red sweatpants, and figured that would be good enough. 

MK had been on his phone during the whole event, talking in a panicked whisper with 'Mei' one of the friends he'd told him about, and didn't look up until Red was already changed, his beaten up street clothes folded and placed neatly atop the overflowing hamper. He found a little spot just above the bed to place his sunglasses—prescription apparently because the world went blurry around the edges without them.

“I'll call you back Mei- ...Red Son?”

“You know you could have told me. I wouldn't have freaked out and it would have explained things way easier.” he sat at the edge of the bed and stretched his arms. They certainly had done their fair share of fighting, now that the post-battle adrenaline was eeking out of him his limbs were going sore in that way that he only could get after he used quite a bit of fire magic in one setting—though ask him how he knew that particular ache and he'd come up with nothing—and he was crashing hard. 

MK approached, hand reached out and voice unsure. “Are...what do you mean?”

He took MK's hand in his own and brought it to his mouth to gently kiss the bruised knuckles he found there. He had a cute blush. He supposed as far as romantic partners go he certainly chose well.

“How long have we been together?”

As it turned out, not very long. Which was curious as again, they were clearly living together, but upon cleaning up the apartment the next day as MK informed their friends about his recent memory loss it became clear that very little, if anything in the space was actually his. It seemed he came to MK's flat with little more than the clothes on his back.

Which combined with what he'd been told, and the data he'd gathered from the others, painted a picture he wasn't quite sure if he actually wanted to remember. 

Besides, he was happy where he was; His friends were weird, but it seemed like he was too! Things were still awkward because he was new but he was already starting to fit in after only a month! 

And MK was a wonderful boyfriend! He was sweet and gentle, and he was usually the one checking up on him, either after a fight to make sure he was okay or simply every morning asking if he'd remembered anything in his sleep. 

He was a little weird with physical affection, he was letting Red decide on the pace, probably still due to the 'not wanting to pressure him' thing granted whenever Red would try something he only hesitated for a moment before leaning into it. 

Holding his hand had been the easiest thing for MK granted he'd actually initiated it the first time, so he'd started there. Looping his arm around MK's had felt a little off, the difference in their height coupled with the fact that he wasn't entirely sure of what was natural to them just yet left it a little awkward, so he decided to stick with hand holding instead. 

Hugs were quick and easy for MK to re-adjust to, he'd hug Red back every time, though it was possible MK was just hard wired to return every hug he was given because despite him responding every time he was still surprised for a while about it. 

He acted at first like he wasn't big on cuddling, even after a long day of fights and deliveries, but his 'i'm fine, really's were always contradicted by how he'd practically melt in Red's arms...though he may or may not have been slightly heightening his body heat whenever the idea came to mind to better make himself something comfy for MK to cling to so he was technically cheating in that regard. But soon enough he'd re-adjusted to that as well. Besides, cuddling with MK felt natural, they cuddled in sleep anyway, as clinging to MK was the only way to ensure he didn't somehow get thrown off the tiny bed in the night.

Red came to the conclusion that this had to be his favorite way to express affection, MK wasn't that much shorter than him, but he was soft when he relaxed and sometimes he'd even tuck his head into the space between Red's chin and collarbone and his hair would tickle Red's cheeks as he grabbed onto Red's arms, nuzzling further into him.

It was one of those times when he'd told MK he understood why he'd fallen in love with him. MK's face had turned red as his own hair, but he'd also looked... so sad. 

MK had stuttered, and said that that was the first time Red had ever 'said it' and not for the first time Red cursed his past self for not being able to talk to people, that MK shouldn't have had to hear it only because Red had lost whatever memories made him cling to such a sense of pride as to not tell him the truth.

So he told MK he loved him again and MK gripped his arms harder.

The next day MK told him he loved him back. But though it made Red so happy to hear, MK was upset, in pain, when he'd spoken; like it was some shameful secret, like he was apologizing even as he said it. He'd wanted nothing in that moment but to let MK be happy at such a professment so that was also their first kiss. At least, it was Red's first kiss. MK gripped the front of his jacket like a lifeline and Red thought it was so endearing he kissed him again. It was then that he decided it didn't matter if his memories came back or not, because he was just fine where he was.

But fate as it turned out had quite a way of testing his resolve.

It was supposed to be their first date that Red could actually remember, MK didn't tell him what their actual first date was like despite Red's questions, something about not wanting Red to obsess over it and get caught up over imagined standards. He didn't know if he actually would do so, but it sounded like something he would do so he didn't contest the point. So he worked from scratch and considered what he knew about MK so far and what he'd pieced together about himself and figured out a rough date plan. Money was a little tight so they couldn't do anything TOO fancy, but there was a nice french themed restaurant a few blocks away and the park nearby apparently had started doing a light and fountain show around sunset every weekend and that online reviews called stunning. And apparently there was even a sweets stand nearby that capitalizes on the shows and always stocks up before the weekend.

It was less grand than some part of him wanted his 'first date' to be, but sweet and simple was the best he was going to be able to shoot for so there was no point in complaining.

Their appetizers hadn't even gotten to the table yet when everything went down the tubes. A veritable hurricane kicking up in the restaurant and driving the two of them outside.

And there hovering a few feet in the air was a woman with dark hair, stylized in peaks on either side of her head to represent bull horns, and wearing an elegant red dress. She looked tired, but fierce, red eyes blazing in the late afternoon light. 

“So this is where you've been...” she muttered, her voice hazy with concealed emotion. Red's first thought that that tone meant danger. He took a step back and MK got between himself and the woman, staff already drawn out at the ready. Her brows furrowed and she lowered herself to be eye level with them. Red could properly see her face now, and she looked... Familiar. 

His head throbbed with a sudden headache. 

“What have they done to you my precious little weakling?” her voice was cooing, soft, it was... something close to a memory. Kneeling beside bedsheets, head too light from hair barely starting to grow back, say whatever she needs to hear just- _please look at me im sorry i was too weak to win but im back now please get out of bed i miss him too-_

His head gave another painful throb, Red stumbled back another step and put a hand over his eyes, adding pressure to try and alleviate the sensation.

“Leave him alone!” MK shouted in front of him, but he felt a gust of wind and heard a yelp and when he opened his eyes next there was nothing between him and the woman. MK flung off into a nearby building.

“You had me worried, honey.” She drifted closer, reached out a hand, and Red found himself both dreading and longing for it, she placed it on his cheek and the tips of her pointed nails felt like they could dig into his flesh at any opportunity. The warmth of the palm and the danger of the nails.

_“Red...You were born into a demon family, they were cruel, but you were kind and you didn't want to take part in their evil any more. So you joined us.”_

“Tell me, my foolish boy, how did these peasants trick you so thoroughly that you'd stumble backward before your own mother?” 

_“Wow this is working like new!... Thanks, You're a bright kid, Red.”_

“You're my mother?”

Her eyes widened before realization settled in. “Oh I see, the artifact that you ruined for us, it must have wiped your weak little mind clean. You must be so confused.” She lowered her voice to sound as though she were speaking to a toddler.

_“You're a good guy, Red. Don't let anyone tell you different.”_

He heard MK getting up from the crater he'd been blown into but the woman gripped his arm tight with the hand not still semi-theatening his face. 

“Don't concern yourself with the riff raff. They've been manipulating you sweetie. And without any memories in that empty little head you fell for it.”

_“We're your friends, Red. We're all always right here if you need anything. Or if you need to get your butt kicked in a blueprint sketching race heyooo!”_

He pulled away, took another step back, the woman was so surprised she let him go. 

“The artifact... You're Princess Iron Fan, right? DBK's wife. When the two of you went looking for the artifact MK and I went to stop you and that's how I lost my memories!”

She still seemed puzzled, but now frustration was leaking in, she still looked so tired.

“Is that what they've told you? I've been worried sick about you, you ungrateful whelp! The three of us went to steal the artifact together and that horrid boy was there to head us off! We got separated and I've been looking everywhere for you!” her voice rose in pitch in rage. 

Red felt the weight of chains on his wrists and neck, heard that voice crack in emotion _imsorryimsorryimsorrypleasestopcryingilldoanythingpleasepleaseplease-_

 _“Weaponizing guilt is a textbook example of mental abuse, rule of thumb is usually, if you only do something for someone because they made you feel like garbage over it, then that's kind of a red flag._ ”

He had to focus. This woman—his mother?—Was stirring up a million half remembered feelings and it was making everything foggy. He closed his eyes and pressed a hand to his forehead again... His head hurt...

“And here I find you fraternizing with the enemy?!”

She was still speaking, voice growing louder and louder as her frustration mounted into anger, but Red tuned her out, his attention going inward.

If she was his mother, then MK was right about his parents being evil demons. The property damage alone implied she wasn't necessarily on the side of good. If that was the case, MK's story said he broke away from them and became good himself. Her story implies he didn't and thus, he was evil too.

He didn't...feel evil... If he was evil he would know wouldn't he? That wasn't something that would be linked to a memory, was it?

She'd said that they'd been separated when the cave started to crumble but if that were the case why did it take so long to find him? He wasn't exactly hiding, and he'd been on the news a few times with the others so it would hardly be an issue to track him down. So was she searching or just finding an opportunity? Was she only here because she found out he'd lost his memories and was trying to get him back on their side?

His friends—they were his friends weren't they?—had noticed that he wasn't used to kindness, that he wasn't used to being treated well. Tang spoke with him often about identifying abusive situations and the long term effects they could have on a person's psyche. Mei made him feel like his opinions mattered, she was always happy to debate with him about things he would reflexively scold himself for gushing about. Pigsy made him feel like he contributed to their setup, like he had talents that were worthwile. And Sandy made him feel like he was still worthwile even without being useful. 

And MK... He pulled his hand away from his head to turn and look in the direction MK had gone flying. He was back on his feet, staff drawn and ready, The staff was angled toward the woman, but his gaze was firmly on Red. He looked... sad. A sort of resigned sadness that made Red's heart ache, like he knew the ending to the story but couldn't stop from watching the tragedy unfold.

And Red understood.

“ _Are you even listening to me?!_ ”

“I'm listening, _Mother._ ” He tightened his fist and felt his flames spark to life. “I just don't believe you.” Now his mother was the one who took a step back. She looked sad too. But the sadness was quickly replaced with anger.

“They've been lying to you! Would you really believe a bunch of noodle shop _peasants_ over your own mother?!”

“I think I would.” He held out his hand, palm up, like he was going to shoot out a fireball. He wasn't but the threat was clear. “He's the one who pulled me out of the rubble, not you, and not my father.”—Whatever kind of person he was—“So yes, I'm inclined to believe the people whom actually make me feel like I'm worth something.”

“Go home, Mother. Tell Father I'm uninterested in returning. I don't want to fight you but I will if I must.”

She grit her teeth, and to Red it looked more like a snarl than anything implying she'd truly wanted him back. And with a whirlwind, Princess Iron Fan was gone.

And... Red didn't know what to feel. 

MK approached him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Did...Are you okay?”

Red felt the fire die in his hand and he turned to smile slightly at MK. “I think so.” 

They weren't able to finish their date due to the restaurant closing for wind damages, and neither of them wanted to stay out in the open after the not-fight.

So they just returned to the flat and watched a few episodes of the Monkey King animated series. Or rather, MK watched, He sketched a half finished idea for wind resistant armor in the sketchbook MK had told him was his within the first week that was now already half full of project ideas and roughs to be later put into blueprints.

“MK?”

“Mmhm?”

“I... put the pieces together in regards to my life before you all.” MK stiffened beside him “I haven't remembered anything but I've been paying attention and certain things weren't quite lining up... Why if we've been together since before all of this I only had the one outfit and the rest I've been borrowing from you, why I always feel like it's such a huge thing when people say kind things to me...why running into my mother made me feel like garbage.”

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to MK's cheek. “...So thank you for saving me.”

“...Huh?”

“I figured out what happened. We were enemies for a time, but you realized I wanted to leave because my parents were... probably mentally abusive...and helped me break out, but since we'd done it in a rush I was stuck with only what I had on me and I had to stay with you so they wouldn't find me, we didn't end up in the cave looking for them, we went to find the artifact ourselves, the two of them were too powerful without backup, and their presence was a surprise, I got flung into the artifact and that's how I lost my memory. You told me I'd left on my own because you wanted my first impression of myself to sound powerful.”

MK curled up tighter and tighter in on himself the more Red spoke, He thought he had it at least, it's what made the most sense. And he'd bet that Monkey King had put some sort of protection over the Noodle shop to keep demons from sensing when anyone was in there, which was why his mother hadn't tracked him down until their date, any other time he wasn't in the shop he was usually doing something with someone more powerful or actively in the middle of a fight.

“Did I get it?”

MK hesitated again, and this time when he spoke he didn't meet Red's eye. “Yup. You got it.”

MK was clearly still shaken up after their run-in with his mother if he was so unnerved about simply speaking about Red's past. But he did still have one question, and it was kind of important. One variable that hadn't lined up, one thing that he'd been trying to explain as due to his memory loss that he couldn't quite go without confirming.

“...MK, were we really in a relationship before I lost my memories or did you just let this happen to make me feel more comfortable?”

He jolted up and finally met Red's eye. And Red might not be the best at reading people, but unfortunately, he could see the guilt. 

“Red Son-”

“It's okay.” His heart sunk, and Red pulled away from where he'd been pressed to MK's side. He scooched until they were a respectable distance apart and tried to pretend he didn't feel like he was just hit by a freight train. “I'm uh- I'm sorry for pressing myself upon you.”

No wonder he was always so startled when Red tried being affectionate. He'd been basically forcing himself onto MK and he'd been too polite, or guilty, or just too damn nice to say anything to the contrary. He realized Red had developed feelings for him and felt bad enough about it that he'd just shunted himself into a rela-

“Red!” MK sprung up so he was standing on his knees, grabbing hold of either of Red's upper arms, forcing him to face him. “Don't apologize! I'm the one who should be sorry! You had nothing going on in your head and you trusted me to tell you the truth and I... _I couldn't_ and...” To Red's shock he could see MK's eyes fill with tears. “I was selfish and I wanted to pretend. I tricked you and the guilt has been _eating me alive_ ” His voice caught on a sob and Red wasn't sure what to do. He wanted to comfort MK for his distress, he wanted to be alone with his thoughts to figure out just what the hell MK had just confessed to. He wanted to... to find his mother again and demand answers. To call Mei and see if she had any insights. He wanted to do something but sit there wide eyed like a spooked animal.

But MK was right in font of him, and he was still crying. So Red chose the first option. He brought his arms around MK's shoulders and pulled him against his chest. 

“I'm so sorry Red Son...”

“When you said you 'wanted to pretend' and... two days ago when you said you loved me-” MK squeezed him tighter. “Did you mean it?”

MK sobbed harder and nodded.

“...Then that's what matters.”

“Huh?” MK pulled away from him, bafflement staying his distress “What do you mean 'that's what matters'?! You're supposed to be furious! I manipulated you! Your mother was right about me!”

“I love you.” MK stiffened, still so unused to the words... “And I probably did long before I lost my memories, You can't fall in love that fast without feelings already being there, right?”

If anything, that made MK worse, he sniffled and scrubbed at his eyes and looked for all the world like he was about to fall apart entirely. 

“You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what you forgot.”

“...So tell me. The full story this time, or at least what you know.” Of course there was no guarantee that MK would tell him the truth this time, but...Red found that he still trusted him. He probably shouldn't, granted MK had just confessed to lying to him on a few things, and that the real story could end everything they had, but...He wouldn't be warning that if he wasn't willing to come clean. 

“MK, I can handle it. It's my life, isn't it?” he took one of MK's hands in his own and squeezed gently.

“...Xiaotian. Please call me Xiaotian.” MK—Xiaotian's other hand went over both of Red's, his gaze now locked on their union. And only then did he really start at the beginning.

And this version... it had to be real. It was... far less flattering than Xiaotian's first story had been, and Xiaotian was far too upset to have the wherewithal to lie. 

But at the same time... It didn't feel real. It was a story that used his name and position and fire powers, but it felt like someone else. Had he really changed so much without his memories that the person he was before felt like a stranger? He'd apparently been under Guanyin's tutelage so how had he slipped back into old habits THAT hard by the time Xiaotian entered the story? It didn't feel... like him. But at the same time, Who else could it be?

Red Son had been working with his parents right until he'd lost his memories, though Xiaotian didn't know why THEY'D been looking for the artifact, he'd been sent there via cryptic note slid under his door in glowing ink and figured why not since his shift was already over. It likely wasn't a coincidence, but they'd all ran into eachother in the cave systems right as the artifact chamber revealed itself. And of course that meant it had been time to fight. Red Son had been knocked into the artifact by Xiaotian, but even after it broke between his spine and the cave wall he'd apparently been fine, fine enough to continue to want to fight even as his parents shrugged and called it a wasted outing. They'd left, Red Son stayed, he and Xiaotian had fought a little more, but apparently he'd gone dizzy a little before the cave started collapsing, and then the boulder had fallen on him.

And that was where Red Son ended and Red began.

And from there he could piece a few things together from Xiaotian's story and his own experience. Red Son only really had his parents in his life after leaving Guanyin's tutelage, Red Son had been a good enough student under Guanyin for her to return him to his family after his father was sealed away, and then in the time between that, and when Xiaotian had quite literally fallen into his life, he'd been reduced almost entirely to where he was before, if not worse. Red Son likely didn't get kind words spoken to him often, likely didn't have any friends, likely made as many things for his family as he possibly could, but was always still feeling as though he could never please them.

“-And, and I didn't MEAN to mislead you at first! I just wanted to get out the damn cave but you were so... you were looking at me and-and you TRUSTED me and I guess I was thinking this would only be like a one day thing! Like people will temporarily lose their memories but everything will get sorted out after a night's sleep and I-...I wanted to be friends. I wanted to see if we could be friends without all the 'heroes and villains' stuff! And then if you woke up in the morning and were back to normal then I'd know we could be friends later! That I could- that if I really tried I could maybe convince you to come over to our side!” Xiaotian's face turned red then, and once more his eyes filled with tears. 

“And then you thought that we- that we were... And I...I was so damn stupid. I just let it happen and you just... kept trusting me and I just kept showing I wasn't worth it and I'm supposed to be a fucking hero and I just... _let it happen!_ ” He was working himself up again and Red squeezed his hands in his own.

“-Because I'm _selfish_ and _manipulative_ and _so fucking stupid_ ” Okay that was enough.

“It's okay.” 

“No it's not!” 

“Yes it is!” he squeezed tighter “It's my mind, my lack of memories, my call to make. So if I decide it's okay, then it is.” Xiaotian still didn't look convinced.

“Think of it like this, my parents were probably abusive, let's not mince words, And I was probably... used to it. It must have been centuries when it was just me and my mother and for me to have been under _the_ Guanyin's tutelage and still slide back into what you're saying... well I don't think that was a 'true nature' thing. It sounds more to me like a learned response from centuries of emotional and mental abuse.” He supposed Tang was right to have been concerned over him... 

If that was concern and not some sort of roundabout way of getting in his head. Xiaotian he could trust had told him the truth, but now he couldn't help but be worried...

“Unhealthy coping mechanisms that have been the norm for so long that it probably never would have even occurred to me that my life was anything but normal for someone in my position at the time. And then all that's gone in an instant.” He made sure Xiaotian was looking at him now. He had to make sure this part stuck.

“Losing my memories gave me a fresh start, and you looked at someone who had tried to kill you dozens of times before that moment and offered your hand, and said 'I'd like to be friends with you this time'. That's not selfish. You didn't have to take me back, you could have just... given me directions home or shown me how to contact my parents and been done with it, but you wanted to help me. You opened your door for an enemy and said 'welcome home'!” Red lifted his hands, still gripping Xiaotian's and brought them to his mouth to kiss. “You gave me friends, you gave me a home, and you gave me your _heart_. What about that is selfish?”

“It was a lie.” Xiaotian repeated, but this time he sounded less sure.

“Were you lying when you said you loved me?” He'd already gotten the answer, but he had to make his point.

“No!”

“Do you think that after all of us hanging out as long as we have that the rest of them still are just acting around me?”

“Of course not! But-”

“And last I checked I still live here, and it's probably unsafe for me to go to the house my parents live in, wherever that may be. So would you look at that?” He smiled softly before brushing their lips together as gentle as he could. “I love you. And even if my memories return to me tomorrow I still will.”

Xiaotian sniffed but finally kissed him back.

They made love that night, what he knew now was definitely their first time together; and Red could not have been more content to never remember a single day of his life before if it meant they could just live like this until the stars went out.

Who cared who he was the 'Son' of anyway? Just 'Red' was good enough for him.

**Author's Note:**

> uwu


End file.
